End of Innocence
by kendokao
Summary: The beginning is the end is the beginning. In the Mirai timeline, the androids make their presence known. One by one, the warriors face them; one by one, they fall.


Disclaimer: This story is a not-for-profit fan work based on Akira Toriyama's _Dragon Ball_ series. I claim no affiliation with Bird Studios, Toei, or FUNimation.

**End of Innocence**

May 12th. Only five days until his tenth birthday. It would be his first since his father passed away. For some reason Gohan had woken up early that morning, just in time to watch the sun rise outside his bedroom window. The other occupants of the Son house were still asleep, so he retreated to the corner of his room and pulled out the old family album. His father's cheerful face greeted him in nearly every image. His parents' wedding. The day Gohan was born. His first steps toward Goku's outstretched arms. Father and son's first fishing trip. Gohan smiled at the memory. It was faint – he had only been three years old at the time – but he could still hear Goku's laugh as he reeled in a fish twice Gohan's size.

Gohan's mind was jogged back to the present by the sound of something stirring in the hallway. He listened for a moment; he recognized the familiar sound of his grandfather's footsteps. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 8:10. He closed the album and stuffed it back underneath his bed.

Gohan walked out to the kitchen and found his grandfather sitting at the table. He smiled brightly. "Good morning, Grandpa."

Gyu-mao smiled back. "Oh, hi, Gohan! So, your mom's not up yet, huh?"

"I guess not. I'll go ahead and start breakfast. Does an omelet sound okay to you?"

"Ooo, an omelet sounds great, Gohan."

Gohan grabbed several eggs from the refrigerator. Chichi usually did most of the cooking, but the past six months had been very difficult for her. Goku's death had hit her very hard, but it seemed as though she was finally becoming at peace with it. In the meantime, Gohan had done what he could to help out with the cooking and other household chores.

"Gohan?" He turned around. Chichi stifled a yawn as she strode into the kitchen, still wearing her nightgown. "What's that you're makin', sweetie?"

"Omelets." He looked over his shoulder at his mother. "There's one for you, too, Mom."

Chichi sat down at the table. "Thank you. You're such a big help, Gohan." She turned to Gyu-mao. "So, how're you this morning, Dad?"

"I'm great! It looks like such a nice day, doesn't it?" he replied cheerily. "You know what? After breakfast I think I'll take a walk. It's so sunny outside, it would be a shame to stay in the house all day."

Gohan served the omelets. They were delicious. "Wow, these are great, sweetie," Chichi praised. "You know what? Since you made us all breakfast, I'll take care of the dishes. You can go ahead and start studyin' as soon as you're done eating."

When Gohan was done, he set his plate on the counter and returned to his room. It was time to hit the books. He sat down at his desk and started to read, but the words didn't really sink in. For some reason he couldn't seem to concentrate. He picked up his pencil and absentmindedly began to doodle.

Gohan didn't know how much time had passed when from somewhere far off he heard the phone ring. He checked at the clock. It was a little after ten. He got up to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gohan, it's me, Kuririn." His voice sounded serious.

"Oh, hi, Kuririn. How are you? Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, I just got a call from Bulma. Listen, turn on the news."

Gohan did as told. He stared at the television. On the screen an island city was quickly being turned to rubble, the source of the chaos unknown.

"Kuririn, what's going on? That city is being destroyed! What about all those innocent people?" he exclaimed.

"I don't know, Gohan. But listen, I'm gonna start heading over there right now. The others are probably on their way, too."

"Okay. I'll see you there, then." Gohan hung up the phone and rushed to his room to change into his gi. He sprinted out the door.

On his way out, Gohan nearly ran into Gyu-mao, who was returning from his walk. "Hey, Gohan, slow down! Where are you going?" he called to his grandson.

"Sorry, Grandpa, no time to explain. I'll be back later!" Gohan shouted as he took flight.

He began flying at a fast pace. Before long, he spotted Kuririn and maneuvered to join him.

"Hey, Kuririn. Do you have any idea what's going on?"

Kuririn sighed. "No, only what I heard on the news. And the strange thing is, I don't feel any powerful ki in that area. I feel the others' ki moving toward South City, but there isn't anything actually there that's big enough to cause that much damage."

"Man, I wish there was some way to figure out what's going on right now!" Gohan said, not bothering to disguise the frustration in his voice.

As the two neared the island city, they could see black smoke rising in the air. "This looks bad," Kuririn muttered. "We'd better hurry."

He and Gohan landed. Piccolo, Yamcha, Tenshinhan and Chaozu were already there. "Piccolo!" Gohan cried.

"Hey, you guys," Kuririn said. "Wanna fill us in on what's causing all this mess?"

Piccolo crossed his arms. "I don't know. It's strange; I don't feel any large ki in the area."

"Yeah, I know," Gohan said. "We couldn't either. Does anyone know where Vegeta is?"

"I'm sure he'll be here sooner or later," Kuririn responded.

"Knowing him, it'll be sooner rather than later," said Yamcha.

The group looked around. "We should probably split up and look around the island," Tenshinhan suggested. "Raise your ki if you see something." Everyone nodded, and they split up.

Gohan flew above the rubble. People were scrambling in every direction, trying to escape. He saw a ki blast out of the corner of his eye. He turned sharply. There were two of them, a boy and a girl. They looked like ordinary teenagers, but something about them didn't feel right. They were hovering in the middle of the street. The dark-haired one, the boy, was randomly shooting blasts every which way. He wore a malicious grin, like a child playing some kind of twisted game.

Nearby, a small child screamed in terror. Gohan snapped back to attention. These two were killing innocent people. He raised his ki to signal the others. As he did so, the girl looked his way. Her ice blue eyes sent a chill down Gohan's spine. They were so cold, so absent of emotion. And she had no ki.

Gohan began to tremble. He had to face them, to stop this madness, but he was just a kid, he didn't have that kind of power, not like his father. _I need you, Daddy!_ His father would make things all right again, but he was dead, and Gohan wasn't strong, not like him. But he had to do something. So he did.

"Masenko!"

It hit the boy. He stopped firing ki blasts and looked up at Gohan with the same icy eyes as the girl. "Well, would you look at that, 18. It seems we have a little troublemaker. And he's such a puny little thing, too." His voice was cold and smooth. It was almost as chilling as his eyes.

"Gohan!" Piccolo quickly flew towards him. The others were close behind.

"Piccolo! They don't have any ki! The boy, he was firing ki blasts, but I still couldn't feel any ki!"

"Calm down, Gohan. It's okay, we're here. Just relax and think for a minute now, would you, kid?" Gohan took a deep breath.

"It seems the little brat has friends, doesn't it, 17?" said the girl, whom the boy had addressed as 18.

Yamcha looked down at the pair. "You're right, they don't have any ki! None at all! What are they, some kind of robots or something?"

Gohan looked up sharply. "Robots?" He thought for a moment. "Yeah, thats it, Yamcha! They must be some kind of androids! Androids are mechanical rather than biological, so that would explain their lack of ki!"

"Androids, huh? That explains a great deal!"

Everyone turned around. Vegeta was hovering behind them with a smirk on his face. "Well, are you just going to sit around all day, or are we going to fight?"

No. 17 smiled below them. "I like the way this guy thinks." He motioned for them to come down.

Piccolo looked at the others, and they all nodded solemnly. They landed a short distance from the duo. "That's more like it," said No. 17 slyly. "Now which one of you would like to be the first?"

Piccolo stepped forward, his eyes burning with the fire of battle. His face was set with a look of grim determination. He pulled off his turban and cape and threw them aside. "I will," he snarled.

Gohan made a move to step forward as well, but Kuririn grasped his shoulder firmly. He shook his head. "Not yet." Gohan reluctantly stepped back.

The boy watched his mentor – no, his best friend – as he prepared for battle with the android called 17. In all the time Gohan had known him, he had never seen Piccolo look more like the great demon king of legend. His pointy green ears were alert, and the rush of adrenaline in his veins could be seen and felt by all those around. His fangs gleamed as he curled his mouth into a grim smile. He sped forward to make the first move.

The android blocked Piccolo's mighty fist. The two fighters' motions sped up and became a blur of punches, kicks, and blocks. But as No. 17 slammed his opponent straight through a brick wall with ease, it became horrifyingly clear who was in control of this fight.

Piccolo flew at No. 17, but it did little good. His attacks had speed, but No. 17 proved that he, too, was quick. He blocked every one of the Namekian's moves with ease. Suddenly he kicked Piccolo down into a pile of rubble.

Piccolo struggled to his feet, but not quickly enough. The android kneed him in the gut, then bashed down his head. Piccolo's eyes widened in pain, and blood spilled from his open mouth. He staggered forward, only to be met by more blows. Purple blood poured from dozens of fresh wounds. He was weakening fast.

Gohan watched in horror. Piccolo, his Piccolo, being tossed about like a rag doll. It was shocking to see someone so strong, someone he had always looked up to, being so easily overpowered. Gohan could feel his own ki beginning to swell.

"Is that the best you can do? You're no fun," complained No. 17. He raised his index finger, and a beam shot straight through Piccolo's chest.

"NOOOOO!"

Gohan's eyes dilated like they always did when his emotions were at their peak – like they always did when he lost control. It took the combined strength of Kuririn, Yamcha and Tenshinhan to hold him back, and even then restraining the child was difficult. He struggled violently, screaming, "Let me go! I have to help Piccolo! Let me go!

"MASENKO!"

He released a blast so powerful, the three had to let go. It hit No. 17 squarely in the chest. He stared at the small boy rushing to the fallen Namekian's side, stupefied. The tattered remains of No. 17's black shirt hung pitifully on his body. His eyes narrowed. That boy dared to do this, and he didn't even fight? But as he began to make a move for Gohan, he found that Vegeta stood in his way.

"Oh, no, you don't," Vegeta admonished, smirking. "If it's a Saiyan you wish to fight, it will be me!" His eyes turned green; his hair, gold. A golden blaze surrounded him. "Piccolo may have fallen, but I assure you my power is far greater. I will crush you androids like the tin cans you are!"

The female android, the blonde known as No. 18, stood up. She held out her arm, signaling No. 17 to back off. She glared at Vegeta coolly. "Let me handle this one, 17," she said, her voice ominously level. She swiftly flew forward to attack.

Gohan paid no heed to the battle going on around him. He didn't notice that Vegeta had finally become a Super Saiyan but was losing anyway. All of his attention right now was concentrated on Piccolo. "Piccolo," he said roughly, "you're going to be all right. You have to be. I still need you!" He felt Piccolo feebly squeeze his hand.

"Piccolo!"

The Namekian struggled to keep his eyes open. He smiled weakly at the small boy before him. "Gohan. . . thank you. . . for everything. . . for showing me. . . what it is. . . to have a friend. You've come so far. . . but please. . . promise me one thing. . ."

"Anything!" Gohan whispered, his voice cracking.

"Promise me. . . that you will live. . . to fight. . . another day. . ."

"I promise."

The light faded from Piccolo's eyes as they closed for the last time. Etched on his face was that small smile reserved only for Gohan. "Thanks. . . kid. . ." And Gohan knew that he was gone.

"PICCOLO!"

But his grief was cut short as the limp form of Vegeta hit the ground next to him with a thud. Gohan's eyes widened in horror as they registered the battered form of the Saiyan prince. He wasn't dead yet, but he soon would be; his clothes were soaked with blood from his numerous wounds, and his neck was broken. Gohan crawled over to the fallen warrior's side. "V-Vegeta," he whimpered.

"S-Spare me. . . your pity. . . brat," Vegeta wheezed painfully. "It's bad enough. . . that Vegeta . . . prince of Saiyans. . . was defeated. . . by that tin can. . . of a woman. . . but Gohan. . . tell the woman. . . tell Bulma. . . and my son. . . that I'm sorry. . ."

Gohan nodded numbly.

"And tell my son. . . to train hard. . . and never forget. . . his Saiyan. . . pride. . ." The fire faded from Vegeta's eyes as the last of his ki disappeared. Vegeta, prince of Saiyans, was dead.

Gohan began to shake uncontrollably. Piccolo. . . and Vegeta. . . the two strongest. . . it was all happening so fast. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone step forward. He turned. Yamcha. "Yamcha! What are you. . . ?" he called, even though he already knew the answer. Yamcha continued walking forward, calmer than Gohan had ever seen him. It was terrifying, as though Yamcha knew that he was going to. . .

The next few moments seemed to pass by in slow motion. Yamcha charged toward No. 18. She caught his fist with ease. She grasped his neck as though to strangle him. But she did not. She instead took her fist and slammed it straight through his chest. His eyes widened in pain; his mouth opened, but no sound came out, only blood. The android removed her arm, red with the fighter's blood. She released Yamcha. A rough, strangled noise escaped his mouth as he fell to the ground. And then. . . nothing.

Gohan stared numbly. Yamcha, too. . . Gohan felt someone grab his wrist. He looked up. Kuririn. "Come on, Gohan. We need to get out of here and regroup. Now," he said urgently. Gohan nodded.

"Let's go," Kuririn shouted to Tenshinhan and Chaozu. They nodded and flew behind him.

"What's this? Running away? That's no good," said No. 17.

"Close your eyes," Tenshinhan called to the others. They did as told, knowing what planned to do. He turned to face the androids. "Taiyoken!" he shouted. The androids stopped in the face of the blinding light. Tenshinhan turned back around and flew with the others. "That should buy us a few seconds," he said.

The four fighters darted between the few buildings that were left standing. It wasn't long before they heard the androids searching for them.

"They gave us the slip," they heard No. 18 say. "Damn humans."

"We could just take a few shots. See if we get lucky," was No. 17's reply.

"Sure, whatever."

Gohan clenched his fists in the shadows. This had to stop.

Apparently Tenshinhan was thinking the same thing. "This ends here," he said quietly. He flew out into the open, Chaozu flying close behind.

"Tenshinhan!" Kuririn shouted. "You can't—"

"Androids!" Tenshinhan called, ignoring Kuririn. The duo turned around.

"So, you've decided to show your face after all," said No. 17 with a nod of approval.

"Enough talk," Tenshinhan replied, his jaw set. He charged.

As Kuririn and Gohan watched, Tenshinhan and No. 17 became little more than a blur of kicks, blocks, and punches. Tenshinhan fought fiercely with everything he had. He suddenly pushed back and flew high above No. 17.

The dark-haired android merely smiled in amusement. "Now, what is the fool planning to do?"

Tenshinhan focused everything on one attack. "KIKOHO!"

The powerful blast hit No. 17 head on. But when the smoke cleared, 17 still stood, completely unfazed.

"That tickled," he said with a small, catlike grin.

Tenshinhan floated above, panting. That attack had drained most of his ki. He knew it was over. He closed his eyes and fell to the ground. _I'm sorry_, he thought. _I tried_.

"This one's useless," No. 17 said. He kicked Tenshinhan through the stomach.

"No," Chaozu sobbed. "Ten. . ." He made a decision. He latched himself on to No. 17. "This is for Ten."

Kuririn realized what was happening first. "Chaozu! Don't!" But his words had no effect. Chaozu self-destructed.

But it did no good. No. 17 was still standing. Not only that, he was laughing. "I guess the little guy had a death wish, didn't he, 18?"

His companion joined his laughter. A mixture of rage and fear boiled up inside Gohan. Beside him Kuririn stepped forward. Gohan could see his own pain mirrored in his friend. "Let me fight with you, Kuririn," he pleaded, his voice edged with anger and grief and so much more.

"No, Gohan," Kuririn said forcefully. "There's been enough loss today. You have to make it out of here alive, even if I don't. You're just a kid, Gohan. You can become even stronger. You can't die here, not today. You're the last hope. You'll get stronger. And when the time comes, you'll beat them. But not today, Gohan. Not today." Gohan could feel Kuririn's ki swell with rage and pain and a dozen other things. And he knew that Kuririn was right.

"You two!" Kuririn yelled at the androids. "You're monsters! Why are you doing this? It's evil!"

No. 17 glared at him coldly. "You know, cue ball, you're beginning to annoy me. What do you say we finish him off, 18?"

"With pleasure."

Both androids raised their fingers. The two blasts shot through Kuririn's forehead. He fell backward, blood running down his face.

"That's it for him. What are you going to do about it, kid?" taunted No. 17.

Gohan was overcome with a wave of nausea. "Kuririn. . ." he whispered. "He. . . he never even had a chance. . ." Kuririn was gone. . . and Piccolo. . . and the others. . . and where was Goku? Dead because of a stupid heart virus! Suddenly it hit Gohan.

He was all alone.

Piccolo was dead, meaning so was Kami-sama. There would be no Dragon Balls this time.

But much to Gohan's surprise, the tears did not come. The pain was there, much deeper than anything he had ever felt, but still there were no tears. Instead, anger began to build up inside him. Anger at his father for being dead, anger at the androids for killing his friends, anger at himself for letting it happen, for not being strong enough to save them. And slowly, the anger that filled him turned into pure rage.

Gohan knew how it felt to lose control. Really, he did. But this was different. It was more than just losing control. It was feeling the rage coursing through your veins and knowing what it means to hate. And as Gohan stood there before the androids, his eyes flashed emerald. His wild hair stood up in spikes of gold. Around him blazed a golden fire, merely a glimpse of the burning rage inside of him.

He glared at the androids. "Ka. . ." he began, "me. . . ha. . . me. . ." _Piccolo, Kuririn, everyone_, he thought, _this is for you_. "HA!"

But it was too much. Gohan fell to his knees as he released the mighty blast. The golden blaze around him disappeared. His hair returned to its usual color. Silent tears fell from his black eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he began to fall forward. His last conscious thought was of Piccolo's dying words. And then he slipped into blackness.

Gohan's Kamehameha blasted toward the androids at full force. They dodged at the last second, and they watched as the building behind them was obliterated. No. 18 stared at the small boy lying unconscious on the pavement. "He's got a lot of power," she said.

No. 17 merely laughed. "Yeah, but he can't even control it. He's not worth our time. Let's just go."

Several hours passed before Gohan woke up. He slowly picked himself up off the ground and looked around groggily. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. The androids were gone. A fresh wave of grief overcame the boy as the memory of earlier events flooded his mind. He clenched his fists silently. He would find a way to defeat those androids. His friends' deaths would not be in vain. After all, he had promised Piccolo that he would live to fight another day.

And as Gohan stood amongst the rubble, he knew that things would never be the same again.

* * *

**Authors Note** (Oct. 2010): Its been some time since Ive written any new DB fanfiction, but DB Kai has renewed my interest in the series and the characters, so I decided to revisit the fandom. In doing so, I came back to my old fics and made a few minor edits: cleaning up typos, polishing a sentence here and there, and making terminology such as names/attacks/etc. consistent across fics. End of Innocence was my first attempt at fanfiction in any fandom, originally published to in January 2004. If youve read it before, the edits arent too drastic and hopefully havent affected your reading experience (aside from possibly improving it). If youre discovering this fic for the first time, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And, first-time reader or not, feedback is always appreciated!


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